


perfect timing

by Flavy



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: A bit of drama, Anal Sex, Entrapment, High School, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Richie sort of seduces Eddie, Sexual Content, Smut, Sort of PWP, it might hurt a bit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 22:00:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28571166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flavy/pseuds/Flavy
Summary: Re-posting. Sincere apologies to all those that took the time to kudo/comment on the original post.~“So are you going to tell me your name or what?” Richie asked, watching him with no little amount of interest. In fact, his dark gaze on him was almost too brazen, too direct, pushing Eddie’s discomfort up a couple of notches. “Though I could always call you sweetheart, if you’d like.”Eddie nearly bristled. Who did this guy think he was? “My name’s Eddie, not sweetheart. And I’ll thank you to quit staring at me.”~Eddie's POV - Eddie goes to a party but ends up in Richie's bed.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 10
Kudos: 66





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [teenagedirtbaq](https://archiveofourown.org/users/teenagedirtbaq/gifts).



> Sincere apologies to all those that took the time to kudo/comment on the original post.

Fuck, it was cold.

Why did he come here again?

Adjusting his scarf a little tighter around his neck and retrieving his gloves from his coat’s pockets, Eddie gave a laboured sigh and proceeded to walk towards the bus stop situated at the end of the small street. The piles of old snow on the ground were already diminishing into grimy-looking patches from the few warmer days they’ve had and the wet sidewalk was glistening in the light of the street lamps. 

Given the late hour, the street was deserted save for a dog-walker that sped by him, bundled-up beyond recognition and rushing like they couldn’t wait to get back inside their house. Eddie didn’t blame them; the wind was mild but biting and his cheeks were already beginning to prickle uncomfortably, making him wonder how long he’d have to wait for the bus to arrive. 

Did the buses even run this late at night? Fuck.

Walking up to the bus pole, he gave a quiet curse upon realizing there was no schedule posted, which didn’t come as a big surprise. The stop was so small it didn’t even have a shelter or a bench to sit on. 

He looked down the street in desperate hope to see if there were any headlights in the distance, but there was nothing. Not even a car. He could be standing there all night waiting for it and the walk home was a good hour—he’d likely freeze his face off before he ever got there.

Deciding he would wait for a few minutes and then start walking along the bus route, he stuck his hands into his pockets and fixed his eyes vacantly upon the house across the street that was still sprinkled with holiday lights all over, though the holidays had long gone. 

He was startled out of his brooding thoughts when a low voice unexpectedly rose from somewhere behind him, disturbing the quiet stillness of the street.

“You might be waiting a while.”

Eddie almost jumped, turning abruptly to identify the speaker and finding himself more than a little spooked out when he didn’t spot anyone right away. It was only when an orange light flickered on and off followed by a rising billow of smoke that Eddie’s eyes caught the dark silhouette sitting on the front steps of the house nearby. The guy sat still as a statue and the nearest street light cast an angled light onto the yard, submerging most of it in shadow, so it was no wonder Eddie hadn’t noticed him earlier.

“The next bus won’t come for another hour or so,” the guy said, and for some unfathomable reason, he sounded amused. “You just missed one and they don’t run too often at this time of night.”

Eddie didn’t answer right away, trying to decide whether he should say something out of common courtesy or just plain take off walking because he wasn’t about to wait a whole hour for the fucking bus, but the more he stared at the guy—eyes slowly adjusting to make out the features of his face—the more familiar he looked. 

He sat slightly hunched but he was clearly tall, his oversized hoodie hanging low over the pale face that was framed by tufts of dark curls, piercing eyes set on Eddie with a curl to his lip.

As recognition clicked in, Eddie nearly groaned out loud. It was the new guy at school—the one that had moved into town with his family about a month back and had already managed to annoy the shit out of Eddie by smiling or winking at him virtually every time they passed each other in the hallways, which Eddie pointedly ignored, seeing how they were neither acquainted in any way nor did they share any classes together. 

Apparently, he lived on this street. And Eddie’s night just kept getting better and better.

Giving no outward appearance of his moment of enlightenment, Eddie cleared his throat awkwardly and mumbled, “Okay, thanks,” before moving off down the street, irritated as hell by his bad luck. He didn’t even manage to take a few good steps before the guy called out for him to wait. 

Forcing himself to stop, Eddie turned to him, raising his eyebrows in silent question. 

“You’re going to walk?” the guy asked after blowing out another wispy cloud of grey smoke, clearly surprised by this decision. “How far do you live?”

“What’s it to you?” Eddie asked, knowing he wasn’t being very courteous and not really caring about it. He didn’t even know the guy’s name—nor did he want to. It irritated him all the more just to look at his overly amused, self-assured face.

The guy raised his hands in mock surrender, the lit cigarette between his fingers nearly burned out. “Just asking. It’s a bit cold to walk if you’ve got far to go, that’s all.”

“And how is waiting here for the bus any less colder?”

The guy hummed, taking one last drag of his cigarette before putting it out under his feet. “Well, my house is right here,” he said once he’d stashed the stub under a large rock to his right with a quick, practiced motion. “You could come in for a bit. It’s nice and cozy inside.”

Eddie snorted. “Why the hell would I want to do that? I don’t even know you.”

The guy gave him a funny look. “Don’t worry, I’ve no interest in molesting eighteen-year-old virgins. And you know we go to the same school, right?”

“No, I don’t,” Eddie lied acidly, raising his tone to emphasize his disinterest in continuing the conversation. “I’m quite sure I’d remember a dumbass face like yours.”

The guy chuckled. “You’re funny. And seriously adorable.”

Eddie felt a scowl forming on his face. “Don’t fucking call me that,” he said, too infuriated with the liberties the guy was taking to hold back. The fucker was clearly having far too much fun messing with him. 

“What should I call you, then?” the guy asked, standing himself up. As he did so, a beam of light fell upon his face, accentuating the angled features that somehow looked softer and more delicate in the warm, artificial glow of the street lamp, dark eyes twinkling with more than just amusement. “I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced yet. I’m Richie.”

Eddie’s frown didn’t waver. “And I’m leaving.” Turning on his heel, he started walking off at a steady but pointedly determined pace, hands fisted in his pockets and heart inexplicably jittery in his chest. When the guy’s voice rose again, his words were almost drowned out by the thudding in his ears.

“Do I really scare you that much?”

Eddie’s progress halted abruptly, an odd sort of tension diffusing into the brisk air while they stood in perfect silence for several long moments. When he finally turned around, the guy’s stare on him was nearly as piercing as the frost seeping into his bones. 

“I didn’t say I was scared,” Eddie said stiffly, pushing back on the annoying fluttering in his stomach that came up every damn time the guy caught his eye at school. It always gave him the funniest feeling of wanting to take off at a run and not look back—which he never did, of course, this time being no exception. 

No, he firmly stood his ground to emphasize his words, fully engaged in the staring contest they were having.

“Then what’s the problem?” the guy—Richie—maintained, a quiet challenge in his tone. “You’re much better off waiting for it inside than walking in this shitty weather. It’s due at eleven so feel free to stand right at the door and stare at the time for the whole hour if it makes you feel better.” 

At Eddie’s continuing inaction, Richie shoved his hands into the front pocket of his hoodie, wiggling them a bit as though to make a point. “Your chastity will be perfectly safe with me, I assure you.”

What the hell, Eddie thought to himself. It couldn’t hurt.

He wasn’t exactly looking forward to walking all the way home through the muddy sludge that continued to melt all over the sidewalk despite the fact that it was colder than fuck with the wind chill, and it wasn’t like he was actually scared of this guy—what could he even do? By the looks of things, he was just a stupid, trash-talking dumbass.

“Fine,” he said at last, so tersely that it might have easily been a “Fuck off.” If he was going to give in, he wasn’t going to act happy about it. As he cautiously approached and moved past the tall figure to climb up the steps to the front door, he added, “But don’t expect me to start saying hi to you at school.”

Richie gave a soft laugh from behind him. “I’d rather wait and hope for better things, anyway.”

Discarding the words as more nonsense, Eddie hesitated only momentarily before following him inside, his cold-flushed cheeks stinging uncomfortably with the sudden rise in temperature. Finding himself in a large foyer that was for the most part immersed in semi-darkness, Eddie darted his eyes about awkwardly, waiting for Richie to turn on the lights. 

Except Richie didn’t seem to be in any rush to do so. 

Kicking off his Converse shoes, he dropped his hood to reveal a bunch of messy curls that glowed orange in the light seeping in through the decorative window and tossed his head a few times to get them out of his eyes before turning to face him.

He must have stepped up closer because suddenly they were standing very, very close—Eddie could feel the warm waft of his smoky breath upon his cheek, which swiftly prompted him to back up against the door fully, mumbling quietly, “Um… are your parents already asleep?” just to cover up for the unexpected nervousness that shot up along his nerves. “I don’t want to disturb them or anything.”

“Actually, they’re out of town for the weekend,” Richie said, voice almost husky in its low, honeyed quality. He continued to hover in his personal space, making no move for the light switch. “So you can be as loud as you want. I prefer it, really.”

“Oh,” was all that escaped Eddie’s lips upon the distinct realization that they were completely alone with each other in this house and that Richie was _most definitely_ flirting with him now—in a very forward way, at that. 

As mild panic washed over him, he fixed his eyes upon the doorknob, struggling to keep his breath steady but failing miserably.

Fucking hell… this was all Bev’s fault. Why, oh, why did he ever listen to her? It would be good for him, she’d said. He really needed to get out of the house, she’d said. Fuck, she was going to hear it from him first thing in the morning. If he ever got home in one piece, that was.

He almost jumped out of his skin when the room unexpectedly flooded with bright light, making his eyes squint in reflex. Once they adjusted, he cast a quick look around, realizing Richie was no longer beside him. 

He was chuckling quietly as he moved further into the finely-furnished living room, the words “You’re just too easy,” soft upon his lips. Pulling off his hoodie to reveal a navy blue t-shirt underneath, he dropped onto the leather couch and fixed his roguish gaze upon him. “I told you I’m not into virgins, didn’t I?”

Eddie glared at him icily, finding no immediate words for a come back. So he just fumed silently, infuriated with himself for playing right into the guy’s hand. 

“So are you going to tell me your name or what?” Richie asked, watching him with no little amount of interest. In fact, his dark gaze on him was almost too brazen, too direct, pushing Eddie’s discomfort up a couple of notches. “Though I could always call you sweetheart, if you’d like.”

Eddie nearly bristled. Who did this guy think he was? “My name’s Eddie, not sweetheart. And I’ll thank you to quit staring at me.”

“Eddie… nice. I like it,” Richie said, not taking his eyes off of him even for a second. “Eddie Spaghetti—like my favourite dish.” He paused, teasing grin making a reappearance. “So what are you doing in this neighbourhood, Eds?”

“It’s Eddie. And if you must know, I was at a party.”

“A party? Really? By the looks of you, I would’ve said you only attend Bible studies.”

Not wishing to flip off a complete stranger, Eddie went for an appropriately equivalent look instead. “Then maybe you need some glasses, dickwad.”

“I wear contacts.”

“They must be defective.”

Richie’s grin widened. “You’re too frigging cute. Were you alone at this party?”

“If I was, it wouldn’t have been much of a party.”

“No arguments here. But seriously—did you go alone?”

Eddie gave a laboured sigh. “I was with my friend, okay? Can you shut up now?” 

“Friend?” Richie echoed like the word itself was foreign to him, affecting polite surprise. Fuck, Eddie just wanted to punch him. “Ooh—you mean that hot red-head you hang out with. Right, right, right.” He gave a thoughtful hum. “Is she your girlfriend?”

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

Richie chuckled. “Didn’t think she was. You don’t really strike me as the—” he gestured quote-on-quote mid-air, “—girlfriend type.”

Eddie’s hard stare on him turned acid. “And what the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Richie gave a shrug. “Just that you probably wouldn’t know what to do with one if you had one,” he said, and Eddie would have taken offense if it wasn’t for the fact that there was virtually no mockery in Richie’s tone. Rather, he seemed pleased, like he’d discovered some dirty secret about him.

“Whatever,” Eddie bit out dismissively, making a point of glancing at the antique clock on the wall. He nearly dropped his shoulders in disappointment when he saw it was only 10:20. Why was it moving so goddamn slowly? “You said the bus was due at eleven, right?” He was growing quite hot underneath all of his layers of clothing (which he fully attributed to the blistering heat inside the house), and there was no way in hell he was taking any of it off. 

There was a pause. “I did say that. But…”

Eddie froze, his eyes swiftly locking onto Richie’s with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. “But what?”

“… I lied.”


	2. Chapter 2

“… I lied.”

Eddie just stared at him for a good long moment, mind churning the words over and over in an attempt to absorb them because they made no sense to him—they made no sense at all. What could be the point of such a stupid lie, even?

“Are you fucking serious?” he asked at last, not even bothering to hide his outrage that effectively covered for the sick panic that was quickly rising up inside of him, making him feel breathless and ill. 

“This time, yes. The next bus won’t come till 7 AM.”

Eddie found himself shaking his head in vehement disbelief. “So what the fuck, then? Why did you make me come in here?”

“Like I said, it’s too cold to walk,” Richie said, looking totally unconcerned with the level of his distress. “I wasn’t kidding about that part. With your body proportions, you’ll be like a calf in a freezer out there.”

“So what do you expect me to do?” Eddie shot back, too disgruntled to bother tearing into the insult. “Stand here all night long?”

Richie said nothing for a while as he lounged back against the thickly-padded leather couch, watching him from under his lowered veil of lashes in a manner that made Eddie’s curled hands tremble slightly along with his breath. Suddenly, he felt cornered, stripped down by that look of fire and mischief that fixed upon him with such intensity. For all of Richie’s stated disinterest, there was something undeniably _wanting_ in the leering dark eyes, something that triggered a spark deep inside Eddie that he didn’t care to stop and analyze.

“You could come upstairs,” Richie said at last, a low, seductive quality to his voice. “I’ll keep you warm for the night. My bed is super comfy.”

For a moment, Eddie’s mind could not adjust itself to the words, repelling them resolutely out of sheer propriety, but once it did, the words “Oh, _fuck_ ” flooded his head on repeat until he felt dizzy with it. 

This wasn’t happening. It just wasn’t—it wasn’t.

With an abrupt and eager desire to get the hell out of there, Eddie moved to grab the doorknob and pulled on the door with a force born of urgency—only to find it locked. After a moment of pure indignation, he proceeded to fumble at the complicated locking mechanism again and again, pulling on the door in-between each tried combination of knob turns, but the damn thing remained shut, not giving way to his increasingly desperate attempts to escape. 

“Good luck figuring that one out,” Richie’s voice carried over, and he sounded amused again. “Took me days to remember how to work it.”

Stiffening straight, Eddie turned to him, fists clenched at his sides. “Unlock the door,” he said icily. “I’m leaving.”

Richie didn’t as much as blink at his threatening tone, draping his arm over the back of the couch in a casual manner. “What are you being so damn jumpy for? You’d think I was out to murder you or something.” He patted the spot next to him invitingly. “Why don’t you come sit here with me for a bit? You look like a hissing cat.”

“No, thanks,” Eddie bit out nastily, staring him down. The back of his neck was beginning to prickle under his scarf, damp with sweltering heat. “I’ve wasted enough time on your bullshit. Unlock the door.”

At his incensed glare, something about Richie’s expression seemed to soften slightly. “Eddie… just sit for a bit. Please.”

Unswayed by his plea, Eddie took off towards the back of the house, cutting through the living room at a swift stride in high hopes of making his way out the back door that was sure to have a less complicated lock on it, but just as he was passing the staircase, his movement was arrested by Richie’s halting grip on his shoulder and next thing he knew, he was pulled back against a firm chest, trapped by a pair of strong arms that held him so tightly he could barely fill his lungs with the air they so desperately needed. 

“Okay, I’ll admit it,” came Richie’s quiet but urgent voice. “I want you.”

In the grips of a deep-seated panic, Eddie froze solid. He couldn’t even find it within himself to struggle against his entrapment. 

“Let go,” he hissed, edgy and winded—to zero effect. 

Not loosening his hold on him, Richie’s hand moved to pull out his scarf until it fell in a heap to the floor and then proceeded to unbutton his coat while Eddie just stood there, dumbstruck and tense as a board, his entire body trembling with something entirely different from fear. 

“Eds…” Richie was murmuring against his hair as he slipped his hands underneath his coat to feel him up through his sweater, and Eddie could tell he was getting hard up against him. “You like me. I know you do.”

“No, I don’t,” Eddie bit out because he didn’t, he didn’t—all Richie did was annoy the fuck out of him. Didn’t he? Except, then… why, why was his proximity, his touch, his scent so fucking intoxicating? 

When Richie’s insistent, exploratory touches found skin below all of his layers of clothing, warm hand splaying flat across his belly to inch its way under his belt, a strange grunt escaped Eddie’s throat that didn’t feel like a protest at all—and Eddie’s panic was reaching its peak, his heart hammering rabidly against his ribcage. 

He wanted to break away from him, to curse at him, to slap him, his mind screaming for him to do _something_ to stop things from progressing in the direction they were clearly going, but he couldn’t, he just couldn’t. 

He could only just stand there, rooted helplessly to his spot. 

So he forced himself to speak again.

“Get your hands off me,” he said breathlessly, feeble and unconvinced even to his own ears. “I didn’t give you permission to touch me.”

“I know you want this,” Richie’s seductive whisper maintained, and then his lips were at Eddie’s ear, brushing against its shell heatedly as he added in a murmur, “Just stay. I’ll make you feel so good. So, so good…”

Eddie steeled himself against the onslaught of wild shivers that Richie’s hot breath and touches shot up along every nerve, bringing his body to life like never before and making him want to lose his mind completely—to do things he didn’t think he’d ever want to do. Not with a guy, anyway. 

He shut his eyes and tightened his jaw with the effort to do so, because… it wasn’t easy. God, it wasn’t easy.

“Stop messing with me,” he tried again, barely able to contain the tremor in his voice.

“I’m not messing with you,” Richie said quietly, bringing his hand up to trace along Eddie’s jaw, thumb running across his bottom lip softly. “I’ve been wanting to kiss you since the moment I first saw you.”

And then Richie’s rough hands were turning him around and taking hold of his face, bending his head back slightly so he could stare at him with his piercing brown eyes filled with dark desire, his full lips glossy and parted—and Eddie knew, he _knew_ what was about to happen, but still felt powerless to stop it. 

He was paralyzed in place. Entranced beyond reason. 

When Richie’s gaze dropped to his mouth, Eddie darted out his tongue to wet his lips, eliciting a needy noise from one of them, or maybe both, and then Richie’s mouth was on his and Richie was kissing him. 

And… _God_. 

His lips were soft, so soft… so warm and moist. Sweet like ripe honeydew. Assertive yet surprisingly gentle.

Within the next instant, all thought ceased and Eddie’s mind effectively shut down, giving in to the flood of sensations that assaulted his senses and heightened the primal need that was quickly overtaking him by storm. And before he knew what he was doing…

… he was fisting his hands into Richie’s shirt and kissing him back.

When Richie’s tongue slid across his lips, Eddie found himself parting to him, his blossoming desire for further closeness revving up the urgency with which their mouths slid together, all animosity between them melted away.

As though by unspoken agreement, they moved together up the staircase, and Eddie was pulling off his gloves and kicking off his shoes while Richie was discarding his coat, their lips meeting over and over again with mounting passion, and—fuck—Eddie didn’t know what the hell he was doing anymore but he couldn’t get himself to care. 

He _wanted_ this, wanted it more than he cared to admit—maybe even for as long as Richie had wanted it.

He’d resisted it and denied it to himself for a whole month, meticulously avoiding all contact, but now that he had Richie’s pliant body pressed up against his, Richie’s hands roaming his skin, his coaxing tongue in his mouth, he could no longer supress how he felt. 

He wanted Richie just as much as Richie wanted him.

As they stumbled clumsily around the second floor, Richie steered him towards the large bedroom at the end of the hallway, pulling back only to shuck Eddie’s heavy sweater and yank both of their t-shirts over their heads before backing them up into the dimmed room. 

The golden shimmer of the streetlight passing through the sheer curtains was faint, not quite reaching the large four-post bed that dominated the far end of the room, but Eddie was grateful for that cover of darkness as he found himself quickly stripped of the rest of his clothing. 

Fusing their naked bodies back together, their skins warm and soft against each other, Richie inched them towards the middle of the bedspread, pressing Eddie into the mattress and pinning him under his solid weight, his hands and mouth assaulting Eddie from all angles, endlessly roaming the length of his body, grabbing, squeezing, spreading his legs and bringing up his knees so Richie could nestle between them, their straining erections sliding against each other.

“God, I want to fuck you so bad,” he was rasping needily, coming up to ravish every inch of Eddie’s exposed neck with his warm, unrelenting lips, and Eddie could only turn his burning face into the pillow in response, a surge of raw desire driving his heart to the point of near bursting. 

He shivered wildly in nervous anticipation when Richie’s weight shifted away from him, watching with hooded eyes as Richie reached for something in the night stand before situating himself back between his legs, his full lips parted in concentration as he stroked himself a few times, the mild scent of sweet strawberry diffusing into the air. 

A short moment later, Richie was pressing into him with a shaky exhale and Eddie’s eyes were squeezing shut, his simmering body tensing all over as Richie slowly—oh so slowly—inched himself fully inside, his hot, trembling fingers digging into Eddie’s hips with almost bruising force to hold him in place.

And _fuck_ , it hurt. It hurt so much, Eddie felt like it was splitting him apart from the inside.

He barely registered it when Richie leaned into him, mouthing along his jaw, whispering softly “Relax,” in-between heated kisses, “it will feel better that way,” as he started up a slow, steady rhythm up against him, and soon enough Eddie didn’t care about the pain anymore because the moment Richie’s hand wrapped around him, matching the pace of his thrusts, pleasure finally started to trickle through—slowly at first and then faster and faster, spreading along his nerves like wildfire. 

He wet his lips just before Richie fell upon them again, pressing into his mouth, invading it with his tongue, stealing the last of his erratic breath away, his manner hungry and urgently fervent, and Eddie was _lost_.

Suddenly, he _needed_ this like he needed the raging blood in his veins. God… he needed Richie so fucking badly.

Circling his trembling arms up around Richie’s back, he found himself mindlessly murmuring Richie’s name while he writhed under the increasingly urgent rocking motions against him, surrendering himself completely to Richie’s possessive claim on him, and pretty soon… things were spiraling out of control. 

Richie’s thrusts became quick and hard and unforgiving, accentuated by his rough moans and gasps that prompted their kiss to break, and despite the striking pain, all Eddie could concentrate on was how good Richie felt inside of him, how fucking good Richie’s hand felt around him, the delicious pleasure building up inside of his gut so overpowering he felt like he was going crazy with it. He never wanted it to end. 

He could tell Richie was getting close because he was moaning curses now, his breath hitching, erratic to the point of desperation, and it was all so arousing, so good, so fucking hot—Eddie was tumbling over the edge faster than he could process it. 

As he hit his release, he gritted his teeth to dampen the moan that rolled deep in his throat, his dazed brain seized by a roar of white light, and it was _nothing_ like he’d ever experienced before. He could barely carry through that blinding high that threatened to swallow him up whole.

Mere seconds later, Richie rasped, “Fuck… oh, fuck, _Eddie_ ,” tensing against him as he gave a few last thrusts and then he was shuddering violently with a loud, fiery moan of his own before going slack and dropping on top of him, resting his damp forehead against Eddie’s shoulder. 

As they lay quietly for long while, shivering wildly and gasping for breath while tension seeped out of them slowly, Eddie was so gone he could barely form a coherent thought, his senses completely wiped out by the pleasure-induced haze that lingered well past the point Richie pressed a kiss to his lips and rolled off of him.

“So fucking good,” he heard Richie murmur before strong arms were gathering him up closer into a comfortingly warm and solid chest. “God, Eds… so good.”

Eddie said nothing as he pressed back into him, his languid muscles fully relaxed following his exertion. His world was still spinning with a mix of emotions he couldn’t understand, so he closed his eyes and drove it all away, focusing instead on the softening of Richie’s warm breath against his temple.

It wasn’t long after that darkness overtook him.

~

When Eddie opened his eyes, a bright sliver of sunlight was streaming through the cracks in the curtains and Richie was still fast asleep beside him, his slack arm resting atop Eddie’s waist.

As the torrid memories of the previous night flooded back to him, he groaned, rubbing his hands over his face in deep embarrassment. In the light of day, the thought of it somehow morphed into something different, something less reasonable—making it seem like insanity, like he’d lost his fucking mind doing such a thing in the first place, because it had been his first time, first kiss even, and he’d given it up to a guy he barely knew. 

And yet, somehow, upon glancing over at Richie’s resting, peaceful face, he couldn’t get himself to regret any of it. Not one bit. In fact, he was almost glad he’d left the party when he did. If the timing had been any different… 

Prompted to check the clock on the wall, his brain got kick-started into gear upon the realization it was only ten minutes to seven. He needed to move his ass if he wanted to catch the first bus; if he didn’t arrive home before his mother woke up, he’d have a lot of explaining to do—and he didn’t really feel like starting up his Sunday with an argument.

Sliding himself to the edge of the bed in one swift motion, he fished his underwear and jeans off the floor and began to fit into them as quickly as he could manage it. As he stood to zip himself up, Richie was just starting to stir, rolling onto his back with a sleepy groan.

“Hey,” he mumbled softly, cracking open an eye to look at him, his untamed curls tumbling all over the place. “You going already?”

Eddie made an acknowledging noise. “Come downstairs and unlock the door for me,” he said before leaving the room in search of his t-shirt and sweater, which he found in a pile just outside the doorway. Slipping into them quickly, he paused before the round mirror on the wall to run his hands through his hair a few times, trying not to give any notice to how goddamn awful he looked.

He was about to go down when he heard Richie’s voice just behind him.

“Can I get a kiss first?”

With a rush of heat to his cheeks, Eddie bit down on his bottom lip, feeling oddly shy about turning and meeting Richie’s eyes after what they’d done. And what if Richie was still naked?

“I have to go,” he mumbled awkwardly, though he didn’t make a move. “I don’t want to miss the bus.”

When Richie padded up to him, Eddie realized with some relief that he was only naked from his waist up, pajama bottoms riding low on his hips. His eyes closed automatically when Richie turned his face up and brushed their lips together chastely. 

“Have breakfast with me,” Richie murmured, running his thumb across his cheek. “You can catch a bus later.”

Eddie shook his head. “I have to get home or my mom will worry.”

“Ah, I see… momma’s boy,” Richie said, lips quirking. “I should have known.”

Eddie grunted. He didn’t have time for this. “Just come down,” he said, extricating himself from Richie’s grasp and skipping down two steps at a time. 

Picking up his coat, scarf and shoes that were still on the floor at the bottom of the stairs, he went up to the front door, glancing out through the decorative frosted glass to gauge the state of the weather that morning. It certainly didn’t look like it was freezing—the sky was blue, the sun was rising over the horizon, and the bare tree branches were still, heavy with drops of water from the melted snow—so he loosely hung his woven scarf around his neck and slipped into his coat, not even bothering to button it up. 

Hearing Richie come up from behind as he bent down to get into his shoes, he wondered what the hell he was supposed to say before leaving because it all felt so weird, so awkward still, and what was their relationship even supposed to be now? 

Richie was oddly quiet as he unlocked the door and stepped away from it, hands deep in his pajama bottoms’ pockets. 

Straightening up slowly, Eddie forced himself to meet his gaze.

“Um… I guess I’ll see you later,” he said somewhat nervously, and it didn’t feel like enough, but his brain felt foggy and rigid, unwilling to yield anything that felt more appropriate, so he didn’t even try. 

Richie didn’t seem to have anything better to say, either, because he simply nodded with a quiet “Sure,” his eyes never leaving Eddie’s.

Just as Eddie was about to slip out the door, assuring himself that they could always have a chat at school or maybe go out to see a movie together or something, Richie’s voice rose again.

“Hey, before you go. Could I have your friend’s number?”

Eddie’s hand froze on the doorknob.

It took him a moment to release the shaky breath that was trapped in his lungs before he was able to turn and fix an incredulous stare on Richie, unwittingly searching his face for _something_ , anything that would explain his unexpected request, his intentions—but there was nothing. The pale face was barren of emotion. Unreadable.

“What…?” he croaked weakly once he got his throat to work again, hoping against hope he’d heard wrong.

“The red-head. Could I have her number,” Richie spoke again, eyes locked onto Eddie’s without a shred of remorse, and Eddie’s face burned in shame upon the realization that what they did meant nothing to him. Nothing at all. 

Suddenly sick down to the bottom of his stomach, he ducked his face away and rushed out the door without uttering another word. 

As he shut it behind him, he stood rooted in place for a few seconds, his rolling confusion at the sharp betrayal in his chest flooded over by anger—anger directed at himself, at his own stupidity—because, God, why did it have to fucking hurt, what had he even expected? He should have realized what he was getting himself into right from the moment he’d made the stupid decision to give in and kiss back. It wasn’t like Richie had any kind of _feelings_ for him. Nor he did he ever claim to. 

… Fuck.

Clenching his jaw against the inexplicable ache in his chest, Eddie raised his stinging eyes just in time to see the bus rolling up to the curb, prompting him into action. 

As he got on, he didn’t look back, though he was sure he’d heard Richie’s door opening behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~
> 
> It's not what Eddie thinks it is, I promise!!
> 
> ~


	3. Chapter 3

Monday morning, Eddie almost decided to skip school. Almost.

After a full day of driving himself crazy trying his best to forget what happened while his mind worked against him by straying back to Richie every damn time his control slipped, he didn’t think he could handle seeing him again, but he couldn’t very well skip out on school and hide away for the rest of the year, could he? 

He could, however, do his best to avoid Richie—like he’d been doing all along, and hope to God that Richie would stay the hell away from him now that he got exactly what he wanted from him. 

After his mother dropped him off in front of the school, he headed straight for his locker, taking a different route than usual to get there. Retrieving his pencil case and notebook, he stashed his backpack and coat inside, and seeing how it was still a good ten minutes until the bell rang, decided to head up to the second floor and pass by Beverly’s locker on the off chance he’d catch her there before class. 

He’d never ended up calling her and, truthfully, he’d lost all desire to talk to her about the party or anything at all that would remind him of Saturday night, but he knew she’d be looking for him before the end of the day.

Once he’d made his way up and turned into the main hallway… he wished he hadn’t. 

The corridor was still bustling with a myriad of activity, but even through the thick crowd of moving bodies, Eddie could clearly see that she wasn’t alone. Richie was standing beside her, one shoulder propped against the adjacent locker, and they were laughing about something together. The expression on Richie’s face was so relaxed, so unguarded, eyes dancing merrily, it only made Eddie’s chest tighten a little bit more.

He wasn’t sure how long he stood there, pushed and shoulder-checked by students rushing past—but the moment Richie’s gaze unexpectedly lifted to find his, he turned on his heel and fled down the staircase at a near run, blinking the blurriness out of his vision.

Sitting through his first class turned out to be somewhat of a nightmare.

He wanted to concentrate on the lecture, he tried so hard to pay attention to what the teacher was saying and take notes, but all he could do was stare at his notebook with his pencil nearly snapping under the force of his grip and think about what he saw, failing miserably at ignoring the ache in his chest that only seemed to get stronger as minutes ticked by, because… God—if Bev started dating Richie, he couldn’t handle it. He couldn’t. 

He didn’t know why but the very idea of it gave rise to something ugly and sinister inside of him, something that coiled tightly in his gut and made him want to viciously kick his desk over. And it fucking _hurt_. 

He barely registered the blaring bell when it came, only snapping out of his brooding thoughts when someone shoved past him amidst the receding commotion. 

Realizing class had been dismissed, he gathered his stuff and exited, wondering briefly why he didn’t just stay the fuck home. Gym was next and the last thing he felt like doing in his dismal state (not to mention the exhaustion lingering in his bones after tossing and turning for most of the night) was running twenty laps around the gymnasium and kicking a soccer ball around the court for an hour while the coach yelled at him to ‘liven up’. 

Nevertheless, he made his way to the Gym locker room, keeping his head down the entire time in case he crossed paths with Richie, which seemed to happen inordinately often by Eddie’s count—almost as though Richie orchestrated it that way somehow, though that was hardly likely since he couldn’t possibly know what classes Eddie was taking and when. 

After changing into his blue track suit, Eddie splashed some icy cold water onto his face in a crude attempt to wash the image of Richie out of his mind and hovered over the sink for a minute to try and get his shit together, only glancing at himself in the grungy mirror for a brief moment.

… Why couldn’t he stop thinking about him? Why? 

All he wanted to do was forget it ever happened and move on. So why couldn’t he?

With an anguished sigh, he scrubbed his face dry with a paper towel and went out into the large, musty gymnasium, begrudgingly falling in line with the others that had already started up a light jog around the court after being barked at by the coach to do so.

The hour stretched on like hardened molasses.

Eddie found himself checking the caged clock on the wall one too many times, barely able to get himself to participate in the scrimmage once it started, which got him more than a few biting remarks from his teammates along with irate yells from the coach whose face seemed to get redder and redder as time passed by—not that Eddie could get himself to care about any of it. When the clock finally struck eleven and the coach’s whistle blew announcing the end of the game, he was the first to move off in an outpouring of relief, eager to get the hell out of there. 

He didn’t even make it off the court when the coach’s roaring voice rose up from somewhere behind him.

“Kaspbrack!” he bellowed like Eddie was fucking deaf or something. “Where do you think you’re going?” When Eddie turned reluctantly, the empty ball net was carelessly tossed into his hands. “You’re on clean-up duty for underperformance. Net the balls and run them over to the storage room.”

Eddie only sighed to himself in exasperation, not even bothering to argue because there was no point in doing so and the sooner he got it done, the sooner he could get out of there. 

A few minutes later, he was towing the filled bag along the parqueted floor when the odd feeling of being watched suddenly came upon him, prompting him to raise his eyes to sweep the area of what he thought was a deserted gymnasium. 

Except… it was no longer so.

His step faltered, pulse quickening as his eyes locked with Richie’s for the second time that morning.

He was leaning back against the bleachers with his arms loosely crossed, the lines of his face once again shuttered and unreadable—and for the briefest of moments, Eddie was struck by how fucking gorgeous he was. The tall, lean physique, the lustrous curls framing the smooth, angular features, the slanting eyelashes lowered slightly over the dark eyes… the delicate curve of his full lips. 

Suddenly finding himself unable to draw a single wisp of air, Eddie promptly dropped his gaze and took off at a faster pace, an anxious flutter starting up in his gut. 

Why was Richie there? What the hell did he still want from him? And how did he even know where to find him?

Keenly aware of the fact that there was no one else around, Eddie sped through the propped-open storage room door and tossed the hefty net in without much care as to where it landed, doubly eager to get out of there—but as he turned to leave, Richie was already standing there, blocking his escape. Kicking the door stopper out from underneath the door, he strolled in, his movements unhurried but markedly determined. As the door slid closed behind him with a pronounced ‘click’, the room was immersed in semi-darkness, with only the light from the glass on the door seeping through. 

Seized by a dawning sense of panic, Eddie backed up further into the room, struggling to steady his breath. At Richie’s unexpected proximity, at the familiarity of it all, memories of their night together rushed back to him without warning, and a scorching mix of shame and irrational _want_ poured into his face, breeding a quick, fiery anger within him. 

Fuck. He should have stayed home. “What do you want?”

Richie’s gaze was fixed upon him with a cold intensity. “Why’d you run off this morning?” 

Eddie almost snorted. Did Richie really expect him to be civil after what happened? “I’ve got nothing to say to you.”

Richie’s expression didn’t change, though his lips downturned slightly at the corners. “You’ve got nothing to say to me,” he echoed quietly, slowly, like he was digesting the words. “I think we both know that’s bullshit. If there’s something you want to know, why don’t you just ask instead of running away?”

“I wasn’t running away,” Eddie said nastily, having no intention of adding to his embarrassment by admitting that he was bothered by any of it. “I told you I have no intention of being chummy with you at school. We’re not friends. We’re nothing. I don’t know you, and shocking as that may be to someone like you—I don’t want to know you. Now move, I have a class to get to.”

Richie didn’t budge, brown eyes piercing like he could see right through him. Eddie had to force himself to hold the stare, loathe to show weakness, though he felt stripped bare by the knowing look. “You’re jealous.”

Eddie’s glare turned acid. “I’m not _jealous_ ,” he shot back a little too quickly, a wave of swift anger blotting out the jab in his heart. “I don’t even like you.”

“You seemed to like me plenty the other night.” 

Incensed, Eddie inhaled sharply through his nose. “The other night was a mistake.”

“Oh, really?” Richie said and although his voice didn’t rise, he sounded angry. “Please, do enlighten me—which part was that? The part where you couldn’t stop moaning my name or the part where you came into my hand with my dick up your ass?”

“Fuck you,” Eddie bit out, Richie’s words triggering a deep burn in his face. He resisted the overpowering urge to retreat when Richie advanced towards him, though he sensed danger as acutely as one tasted something bitter on the tip of their tongue. “Don’t you fucking come near me.”

Richie stopped some short feet away from him. “Come to my place after school, my parents don’t get home till late. We’ll talk.”

“Talk?” Eddie scoffed in sharp indignation. “Quite sure talking isn’t what you have in mind. And guess what—I’m not interested in being your fuck buddy or whatever it is you want to call it.”

For a long moment Richie said nothing, holding his ground. There was a quiet tension in the lines of his body, in the way he held himself, etched into the pale features uncharacteristically devoid of all mirth—like he was on the edge of some breaking point; the calm before the storm. His stormy eyes were ablaze, brimming with some potent emotion Eddie couldn’t quite identify. 

“That’s not what I want,” he finally said, voice firm but deadly quiet. “I thought I made it clear how I feel about you.”

“Yes, you did. Perfectly clear,” Eddie bit out venomously, and the sharp stab in his chest was spurring him into action, fueling him to shoot forward with the words “I’m done with this shit,” in an attempt to rush past Richie and escape the inevitable—but, as the previous day… he didn’t get far. 

Swifter than a blink of an eye, strong arms caught him, circling round his waist roughly, and brought him in against the solid body against the feeble attempts of struggle that Eddie quickly gave up, having no choice but to turn up his head and look at him, mind awash with panic, blood roaring in his ears, barely able to discern the words that were being hissed at him.

“Do I really have to say it?” Richie was saying with a surge of underlying fervor, the force of his bone-breaking hold on him almost painful. “I _really_ like you.”

And then something broke in Richie’s eyes, lost control, gave away to unbridled intensity, and in the next instant, Richie’s hot lips were pressing to Eddie’s cheek, trailing down his jaw, making their way down to his throat, claiming and marking the soft flesh with open-mouthed kisses that scorched with the fierceness of their passion and Eddie’s head was rolling back, a torn moan escaping his throat unbidden amidst his sporadic breaths, all traces of anger rapidly dissolving into the molten fire igniting in his veins. 

God, he’d missed Richie’s touch so damn much, it burned. He couldn’t bear to admit it to himself but he wanted him—despite everything, he still wanted him. All of him. 

His nerves were alit with it, desperately desiring more.

“You’re all I could think about yesterday,” Richie was murmuring against his skin, urgently, heatedly, and Eddie couldn’t tell if it was Richie or himself that was trembling wildly with the words. “I was missing you so much… it was making me crazy.” 

Next thing Eddie knew, Richie’s hot breath was at his parted lips, shaky and uneven and tempting, and Eddie was dizzy with it, drunk out of his mind, emptied of everything but a burning want, an overpowering desire, and in that moment he knew if he didn’t get out of there now… he was going to end up making the same mistake all over again. 

And he couldn’t, he just couldn’t… he couldn’t afford to make it again. Because Richie’s words meant nothing; he had to be lying to him. He had to be. He was clearly interested in Beverly.

Drawing strength from the last shreds of his tattered dignity, Eddie forcefully tore himself out of Richie’s grasp and stumbled a few steps back, barely able to draw a breath through the torment storming about in his chest.

Locking eyes with him just for a moment, he choked out, “Just stay away from me,” before pushing out the heavy door and taking off.

~

He was still dazed out of his mind when Beverly found him at his locker after school—a good half an hour after the final bell rang.

“Hey, stranger,” she greeted as she approached, eyebrows drawn slightly in concern. “I saw you coming out of the office. Is everything okay? Did you get in trouble?”

Eddie gave an acknowledging grunt, retrieving his scarf and coat. He hardly remembered a word from any one of his classes that day and his Science teacher didn’t take very kindly to that. “It’s nothing, don’t worry about it.” Wrapping his scarf around his neck, he eyed her over. She was still in her pink fluffy sweater, a large textbook clutched to her chest. “What are you still doing here?”

“Eh… had some work to finish up,” Bev said, scrunching up her freckled nose as she patted the textbook. “So… what happened to you on Saturday? You up and disappeared on me. Did you end up taking a bus home?”

“Um… yeah,” Eddie mumbled, since technically it was not a lie. “I wasn’t really into it, sorry. Not my thing.” And speaking of disappearing. “Where were you at lunch? I couldn’t find you anywhere.”

“Oh! I was in the library with that new guy, um—with the long, curly hair, you know? His name’s Richie. He’s a really funny guy, I think you’d like him.”

Eddie stiffened solid in the midst of pulling on his coat.

Fucking hell. After all he’d said and done in the storage room, he went and spent his lunch hour with Beverly. Goddamn liar. 

“Did he ask you out?” slipped out of his mouth before he could stop it.

Beverly’s ginger eyebrows shot way up. “Ask me out? Richie??” At Eddie’s confused silence, she shook her head with an odd little smile, like she found the very idea of it funny. “No—no way. Why would you think that? He’s not interested in me. Actually, I’m pretty sure he’s not into… dating girls in general, if you know what I mean.”

It took Eddie a moment to find his voice. “… What were you doing, then?”

“Didn’t I tell you?” Beverly said, a thoughtful look passing her face. “We got paired up for an English project last Friday. I was going to give him my number so we could work on it over the weekend, but I got busy and forgot.” She paused with a mournful little sigh. “I didn’t manage to have any lunch today, but oh well. At least it’s done.”

Struck speechless, Eddie just stared at her for a good, long moment, a deep sense of dread creeping into his heart. 

“What’s wrong?” she asked, searching his face with renewed concern. “You look kind of ashy, are you feeling okay?”

Eddie tried to swallow but his throat felt too dry, too tight. “I, um…” Trailing off, he just stood there for a bit, the frantic rush of thoughts in his head coming together to make a quick decision that prompted him to finish up with his coat and shoulder his backpack in a burst of activity. “… I got to go.”

~

Twenty minutes later, he was hopping off the bus in front of Richie’s house, nervous as hell but keenly determined. 

His resolution wavered only slightly when he spotted Richie sitting on the front steps of his house, head bent under his black hood, a lit cigarette held idly in his hand, wondering briefly if Richie was even willing to speak with him anymore. He hadn’t tried to approach him again for the rest of the day—which had been a relief at the time, but now… now it only made Eddie’s anxiety spike with the weight of uncertainty. 

He must have stood there for a while, cheeks prickling with the bite of the wind or maybe his own confused emotions, because by the time Richie turned up his head and saw him, his cigarette had almost completely burned out. 

At first, his expression didn’t change, then something tensed in it subtly but perceptibly, and he stood to stamp out the stub under his heel, not even bothering to hide it under the flat rock by the stairs before making his way inside.

For a moment, Eddie was sure he was going to shut the door and mark the end of it all, but… he didn’t. The door remained slightly ajar in clear invitation.

Drawing a deep, steadying breath, Eddie made his way across the street and followed him inside. 

Finding himself in Richie’s foyer with Richie occupying pretty much the same spot on the leather couch as the previous night, Eddie experienced a mild sense of déjà vu—except this time there was no teasing glint in Richie’s eye, no playful words, no amused smile upon his face. He was perched on the very edge of it, elbows resting upon his knees, fingers interlinked in the middle, and his eyes remained averted even after Eddie shut the door quietly behind him.

As infinitely long seconds ticked by marked by a deafening silence, Eddie found himself fidgeting restlessly, worrying at his lip over and over again until the tightness in his chest got to be too much to bear. 

Shoving his hands into his coat pockets, he forced himself to speak.

“Why didn’t you tell me it was for a project?”

Richie didn’t immediately answer, observing the hardwood floor at his feet. “You didn’t ask,” he finally spoke in a quiet tone. “You preferred to assume the worst and run away.”

Stirred by the bit of guilt that was skirting its way along the edge of his awareness, Eddie let out a soft sigh and began unbuttoning his coat with slightly fumbling fingers. Once he’d finished, he dropped his backpack and slipped off his shoes, hanging up his coat and scarf onto the coat rack nearby. Running a shaky hand through his hair, he padded up to Richie until he was standing right in front of him, calling his name softly to get his attention. 

When Richie looked up, his eyes were questioning but there was vulnerability there, too, a spark of emotion hidden beneath a veil of wariness. 

Drawing some confidence from it, Eddie inched forward, pushing on Richie’s shoulder lightly to convey his intent, to which Richie hesitated only momentarily before scooting himself further back as Eddie advanced along with him, carefully straddling his hips until their bodies were perfectly aligned.

Lifting his hand to Richie’s cheek, he murmured, “You’re all I could think about, too,” relieved to see Richie’s eyes soften in response, revealing a warmth of affection that Eddie hadn’t seen there before. 

Their lips met but a heartbeat later, slow and exploratory at first, almost like it was their first kiss, like they were getting to know each other all over again, but rapidly growing more eager and urgent as their breaths quickened and their bodies lit up and came alive against each other—and pretty soon they were both hard and mindlessly grinding, ravishing each other’s mouths with needy little moans like they couldn’t get enough. 

And, fuck… it felt so good to be close like this again, to be able to run his fingers through Richie’s soft hair, to arch into Richie’s hands that roamed freely, marking traces of fire along his bare skin, to have Richie’s tongue in his mouth, Eddie was utterly delirious with it. Addicted to the point of no return.

When they finally parted for breath, both of them feverishly aroused and breathless against each other, Richie spoke.

“So can I call you sweetheart now?” 

He looked so deliciously hot with his cheeks flushed and his long eyelashes lowered, tumbled curls in disarray, Eddie couldn’t find it in his heart to say no, though the idea of it was strange to him. “On one condition.”

Richie perked up, like he’d expected to be denied. “Name it.”

“You quit smoking.”

“Done.”

Eddie raised his eyebrows in disbelief. “Really? Just like that?”

“I only just started a couple months back,” Richie said, not a trace of reluctance in his relaxed features. “I got bored. Besides… your virgin ass is worth it.”

Eddie gave a soft snort. “Nice line, Trashmouth. You really expect me to date you with that kind of trash talk?”

“Date?” Richie echoed, affecting mild surprise. “Who said anything about dating?”

Eddie gave him a look before inching closer so their lips brushed as he spoke, “No dating—” he breathed in the lightest of whispers, “—no fucking.”

“Oh, damn… you sold me, sweetheart,” Richie murmured, the corner of his mouth lifting. His hands traveled down Eddie’s back seductively, digging into the round flesh below. “Should I be asking your mom for permission first?”

Eddie wet his lips. “… Just shut up and take me upstairs.”

~ The end

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Happy Endings ^_^


End file.
